Prototype
by littlefurryguy
Summary: Ever read an EndOfTheWorld fic? You know, those stories where most of the world is dead or has been turned into a Zombie. This is what we got by trying our hand at an Apocalypse!fic. But no Zombies, sorry.


TITLE: Prototype

WARNINGS: This is an Apocalypse fic, meaning you'll find gruesome stuff but nothing graphic. One shot, unresolved plot both past and future (it is not made clear what happened before and what will happen after and we've decided on keeping it like that … sorry, guys; no expansion ahead). Prompt words were _Prototype _(hence the lame title) and _Fall_.

Dedicated to **katt30**, she knows why ;P. Thanks to **engelina** for her comments and **slimgatsby** for catching a typo. Really special thanks to **Reijiro **for her amazing grammar damage control powers. Help still welcomed, especially with the ending and the Magic Quest of a Suitable Title. Co-authors, as on past occasions, are **ghostwriter **and **littlefurryguy**.

We don't own the TMNT.

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The building was higher than anything they'd ever climbed before. None of the surrounding constructions were even half its size, and that made the whole exercise rather more motivating in Leonardo's opinion. His family didn't have to hide from the public eye anymore, so as days came and went it became increasingly harder for him to make his brothers live up to their ninja training.

It seemed ridiculous to live in shadows under their current circumstances.

Being the first to reach the roof --no surprise there--, he took a moment to look at their surroundings. The scene was breathtaking in more than one way. The edifice they were currently on had been one of the most prominent, yet not the top one. On those first days, its continued existence --a barely scratched column among Parthenon like ruins-- had been a thoughtfully discussed mystery. It still remained obscure data, but they didn't raise the subject anymore.

Not even now.

The sun light had been dying for a while, yet not fast enough to prevent his brothers from taking a last glance to New York City's scarred carcass. Smoke had long ago dissipated, but the scorched walls showed where the fire had once become king and lord. The corpses' gruesome forms were still around, the specific details hard to notice from the turtle's positions. Time had passed, yet they showed no sign of corruption or decay.

They would remain like that for the years to come, Leonardo had been told. To give them a proper burial had been one of those tasks he daily took upon himself. He would have preferred to be the only one devoted to such a distressing chore, but his brothers always made sure the four of them were part of the job. None would sleep or even pause to rest if he kept working, they had made it clear -- and he was thankful for that knowledge.

Even after endless hours of digging and carrying, now nothing but a mechanical replication of too much repeated movements, he still needed an excuse to stop, _anything_, and they were willing to give him the most plausible one. He still was their older brother, and that gave him fuel and reason.

"T minus eighteen minutes."

Donnie's observation made him smile, and he knew Raph and Mikey would have a grin on their faces too. Two hours ago they didn't had a plan for the night --they usually didn't--, until Donnie suddenly declared the prototype was ready. They took their time to reach the pre-settled destination, and didn't even hurry on their way up; but now the spark was on their genius brother's eyes, and his eagerness to test his last invention was contagious.

It was normalcy, or as much of it as they would ever have from now on.

The three of them had seen the apparatus being assembled many times the last six months, so they were able to recognize the several parts' location, if not their function. Thus, four pair of hands got it up and ready in half of that time. Then, they used seven minutes to take certain amount of delight on the slowly appearing stars, never commenting on the moon's worn-down appearance.

On T minus forty-five seconds Leonardo made sure that the pre-assigned positions were taken, eyes double-covered even as they hid their faces while lying face down. Donnie had tried to clarify the reason for that before, but what was left of their family didn't really care about those explanations anymore. His word was all they needed, and there were more important questions in need to be solved.

The sonic blast pushed them down, and was immediately followed by a heat wave that thankfully dissipated fast enough to allow their lungs to recover. None of them moved or said a word until Mikey declared five minutes had passed. He would be the one keeping the count, they had decided many weeks ago, in order to give his usually hyper mind something to focus on during the seemingly interminable wait.

The blue-clad turtle understood it was a matter of trust and purposefully kept his mind blank, refusing to double-check his brother's numbers. Nobody ever said it, but they were aware that if the younger of them did a mistake, they would end partially --or even totally-- blind.

Rising from his prostrate position and taking the black cloth off, Leonardo found that the light ring was still visible in the horizon, the distance longer than the original estimations. Apparently, Mikey had given them a few more seconds, which was fine for him. He waited until the light dissolved in the distance and then waited a little more, until Donnie declared it was safe to take off the security goggles.

The night had an eerie patina, as if the white flash had turned into powder and floated as dust particles. They moved closer to the center of the roof, the green light from the screen coloring their bandanas with unfamiliar shades. Each one of them knew what to look for. Each one of them knew it wasn't there to see.

Raphael was the first to acknowledge the result, moving away from their little group, opening and closing his hands in silent rage. The silent part didn't last long, and neither did his stand-up position.

"There's. Nothing. Out . There," he said, not yelled, punctuating each word with a punch to the floor --_or was it the ceiling?_ Leonardo wondered-- that resounded in a sickening crunch and made them wince.

Mikey was the one kneeling by his side, holding his hands while looking infinitely sad. It broke Leonardo's heart, but there was nothing else he could do. Raphael wouldn't accept more comfort than what was already being given. Michelangelo would not break down while there was something he still could do for a family member. Donatello --

Donatello hadn't taken his eyes from the screen, as if waiting for something to change. Nothing would, and they all were aware of it.

"What do we do now?" Leonardo asked. They needed to give the genius an objective, something to analyze. They needed to know what to prepare for, what to expect.

"Other than us, there's no sign of life in an area about twice the size of New York City," Donatello recapitulated after a pause. "As we already know, this … _attack_ … had a world wide repercussion, so it is safe to conclude it is the same all around the globe." Leonardo felt as if he could be burned under the raw intensity on his brother's eyes. "Nothing survived, Leo. No human, animal or vegetable -- not even microorganisms."

And there it was; it had been said. For endless days they had treated such scenario as another one among a list of possibilities, even if the odds said it was the only plausible. Now that they had confirmed it, there was no way denial could be maintained. They couldn't change their reality; all they could do was to learn how to live --how to _survive_-- under the new conditions.

"That means there will be no more food other than what already exists," the turtle in purple continued. "On the bright side, as we already know, it will be naturally preserved in its current state, only desiccating as it loses water."

Leonardo nodded. Such a notion had hit them hard the first time they discovered the cause of the cadavers' preservation. As the bodies were not being used for feeding purposes --because there was no being left to feed from them--, no putrefaction took place. It was like turning the entire planet into a germ-free environment, just replacing 'germ' with 'every living being'.

Four mutated turtles excluded, as Michelangelo had pointed on that occasion.

"What can we expect regarding air and weather?" Leonardo asked. Last weeks had found him and Raphael spending more and more time together, talking about topics they never before had a reason to delve into. Now, looking at his usually hot-headed brother's stiff form, he remembered a particular conversation. "With the plants' disappearance --"

He couldn't continue.

"Oxygen and CO2's production should be our main concern." Donatello's smile was far too minuscule, but at least it existed. "But, considering the atmosphere's volume and the estimated requirements of four creatures our size, I think we'll have enough to keep us going, and then more."

Raphael got up but remained at his spot, looking at the night sky. Leonardo knew he was once again going at the list of answers they didn't have. _What, why, how_ … and, principally, where. It had been Leatherhead's theory --before he joined Splinter, April, Casey and Angel-- that the event had involved more than their part of the Universe.

Leonardo wondered if the Nexus still existed, if Usagi, the Utroms and every single being they had ever met were still alive. Maybe they were, maybe not. Maybe they'll never know for sure.

"And then, one morning one of them will not wake up, and there will be only three left." Startled, Leonardo's attention returned to Raphael, whose eyes were locked on the City's horizon. "Be it an accident, old age or boredom, one by one they will slide and slip. In the end the last one will stop caring, aware of his loss, unable to find a reason. And then, one morning one of them will not wake up, and there will be no-one left."

Awe-struck and speechless, Leonardo seemed unable to take their eyes from a red-clad turtle -- and Michelangelo and Donatello appeared to have similar problems.

Raphael shrugged. "Casey heard something among the lines months ago. We got some laughs out of it that day," he explained, shrugging again, and his next words were heard clearly despite being delivered in a murmur. "It ain't funny anymore."

The silence that followed was sickening, telling tales of emptiness when there was none. There were cars in the streets, rows and rows and even more rows; and inside, outside, around them --_and under_, Leonardo's mind provided-- were what used to be pedestrians. Silencing their souls they could even believe that nothing had been taken from New York; because, in all honesty, nothing on the physical realm had disappeared.

It was all there for them to see; to touch, even.

Michelangelo had discovered that the green areas at a previously loved park were sprinkled with birds and squirrels, and even little fishes floating on a pond. Donatello had noticed that crickets and flies and ants and dead cockroaches littered the corners, always in groups, never a lonely individual to be found. Raphael had had to take a shortcut thru a school playground in the middle of that first hours' chaos, something he still refused to talk about it.

Yes, the silence was sickening, Leonardo decided, noticing that the wind had also been quiet, as if trying to prove a point. He wanted to hear chatter, murmurs, tires and horns. He craved after a badly delivered punch line, an hour worth of barely grasped facts, a short-tempered and completely petty argument.

He needed guidance -- but that he couldn't have, the same way he couldn't bring back the spark of life to the interminable line of blank eyes.

"Why are lights still on?" Michelangelo asked suddenly, almost childlike curiosity coloring his voice.

Silently thankful for the opportunity to stop the gloom turn of his thoughts, Leonardo looked at the City with inquisitive eyes. Moving to the roof's border, Raphael snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Because somebody forgot to turn them off?" he mockingly asked, but Leonardo could tell that he was also relieved for their brother's intervention. "It was life what was shut down, dumb head; lights don't equal life."

Mikey's _blah-blah-blah_ mimics felt like a river of fresh water after diving in muddy water, and it got them smiling, truly smiling, for first time in what felt an eternity.

"You both just made quite some interesting contributions," Donnie declared, and the flabbergasted look on both of the complimented turtles got the other two chuckling.

"Systems are still going on," Leonardo said, understanding what his brother meant.

Donnie nodded. "Electricity, water and sewerage plants, radio and television stations, freezing chambers, hospital units, gas installations, hydroponics greenhouses … every piece of equipment and machinery that works on an automatic basis or was not shut down is still working."

"They won't stay like that forever," Raph declared, pointing at the darkened areas of the City below them. "Some of them are already failing."

"Right," Donnie conceded. "Because of a fuel or electricity shortage, or when the different processes' accumulated failures became too much to bear. Such facilities aren't eternal," he finally stated.

"They would die."

Mikey's choice of words tasted bitter, but they rang like a bell in Leonardo's mind.

"Gone with a bang, gone with a whimper," he mumbled. Then, in a louder voice, he turned to look at Donnie. "What will happen with nuclear plants and petroleum extraction fields?" he asked.

Donnie's eyes widened in recognition; Raph and Mikey didn't need long to understand Leonardo's point.

"And dams," Raph added with a grim tone, "and nuclear bombs."

"Shouldn't nukes be buried under tons of security codes?"

Leonardo shook his head. He wanted to share Mikey's optimism, but all of them had seen and heard several countries blaming each other, threatening on unleashing a different, less unexpected, brand of Armageddon. Fortunately, the end hit too fast too hard for them to have the chance -- or at least that they had wanted to believe. Now Leonardo wasn't as sure as he once used to be.

There was silence again, but this time it was different, filled with trepidation. They looked at each other for a few minutes, each one knowing what was going on the other's mind.

"I'm not gonna sit here, waiting for shit to happen," Raph finally stated.

"Do you realize this is a hopeless task, Raphael?" Donnie's voice didn't sound convincible, as if he were only playing Devil's Advocate. "There's no way we'll be able to stop every possible problem from happening."

Leonardo looked at the moon and then back to his brothers.

"Then we have to carefully set our priorities," he declared. "World threatening situations and immediate local problems first; and we'll tackle one at a time."

"I'll make the list," Mikey offered with a grin. "That way I'll make sure we put into it 'solving this life sucking sucky situation', too."

"So we'll save the world?" Donnie questioned with a sad, painful smile. "What for?"

"Just because?" the younger turtle provided, but his playful mood rapidly diminished. He looked at Donatello for a moment before turning to Leonardo, still keeping silence. Then he turned to Raphael and kept his gaze there. "So that then," Michelangelo stated, his voice clear and serious, "if one morning one of us does not wake up, the others will still have a reason."

"That's enough for me," Leonardo finally declared, and the other three nodded at it.


End file.
